


A Walk in the Woods

by thecurlymop



Category: The Crimson Field
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecurlymop/pseuds/thecurlymop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Kitty had been able to meet Tom</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk in the Woods

Thomas checks the time obsessively, watching as the minutes slowly tick by, getting closer and closer to 2 o’clock. He’s been thinking of all the things that are going to go wrong and half wishes Miles were here to talk him out of the panic he can feel gripping his body. Of course that would require Miles to know what was making him panic and for some reason, perhaps jealousy, he doesn’t want Miles to know. Ever since he met Miles, he’s watched him work his way through every single lady who has come his way, masterfully manipulating them to adore him and then when he’s had enough, simply discarding them, often managing to convince them that they don’t want him any more. It’s a system he’s admired but he’s seen Miles move in on women before who seemed very attached to other men and to be quite honest he doesn’t trust Miles, friend though they are. This is different. Thomas has feelings for Kitty and he doesn’t want Miles to muck up his chances, he’s quite capable of doing that for himself.

 

By the time half one comes, Thomas is practically vibrating with pent up energy and he reasons that if he wanders slowly he’ll only be 20 minutes early, perhaps even less if someone tries to talk to him. He makes his way across the quad, avoiding the worst of the mud and a loud group of patients playing cards. As he passes the mess, his mind goes to food and he decides to stop and see if there’s anything he can nick and take with him as an impromptu picnic. If everything goes wrong and they have nothing to talk about they can always eat, he reasons. For that is one of his main fears. There is definite attraction between them but he doesn’t know if that’s it. To be honest, every time he sees her, his mind goes blank and he can’t think of anything to say. In the privacy of the woods with no-one to save him by jumping in to the conversation, that’s going to become painfully obvious unless she’s been taking lessons from Flora who never seems to shut up. He doesn’t know what would be worse actually, the dead silence he was originally dreading or this new idea of Kitty suddenly becoming unable to shut up. He knows which is most likely honestly.

 

He sneaks a few biscuits and tries to wrap them in a clean handkerchief before putting them in the pocket of his army tunic and hoping for the best. As long as he doesn’t forget about them and crush them it should be alright. There, that’s taken up more of his time, and he walks slowly over to the edge of the trees, stopping to look back at the camp before entering one of the paths that wind through the relatively small patch of woodland. One thing that has really been worrying him is that he didn’t say anything more specific than ‘in the woods’. While he realises it’s probably a little much to specify a certain tree stump, right now it would reassure him that he wasn’t going to miss her. Really, there is only one way into the woods from the camp unless you’re in to hiking and climbing over ditches so as long as he doesn’t go much further, she’ll see him when she gets to the start of the path. With that in mind he stops and finds a good tree to lean against and waits.

 

 

Kitty spends the morning replaying Thomas’ voice in her head and picturing the small pleased smile he’d given when she’d said yes. Joan keep her busy right up until 2, fetching and carrying linens and bandages for the burns ward and every time she notices the time so wonders anxiously what she’d do if the sister forgot she was supposed to have the afternoon off. To be perfectly accurate, she is already working into her free time but Joan is rushed off her feet and Kitty doesn’t want to be annoying. When the clock hits 2 though, she has had enough.

‘I’m sorry, Sister, but my shift finished an hour ago.’ She has finished all the folding Joan assigned her and she really doesn’t want to be given anything else. Joan looks at her watch distractedly and exclaims, ‘you should have told me, I’m sorry my dear, enjoy your afternoon.’

Kitty is gone almost as she says the last word and Joan thinks that if she didn’t know Kitty better, she’d think there was a man involved in that sudden burst of energy.

 

Kitty dashes across to the tent, hoping to run a comb through her hair and neaten her headdress at least but as she gets there she hears Rosalie and Flora having an animated discussion about daffodils of all things and she quickly moves past, not wanting to get delayed more. They would be so curious about where she was going and why she was tidying herself up and she’d rather not have them asking more questions about her, it was bad enough already. As she reaches the woods she sees a figure ahead on the path and walks quickly towards him, apologies ready.

 

 

His first thought is ‘She came!’

He’d been gradually coming to the realisation that she wasn’t going to turn up and had been going through scenarios for when he saw her that evening at supper but now those thoughts disappeared. She looked flustered, had clearly been hurrying and when she gets to him she stands for a moment, breathing a little heavily with a becoming flush on her cheeks.

‘Sorry, I was on duty, linens needed folding and…’ she shrugs, ‘I came as soon as I could.’

He ducks his head shyly, ‘I’m glad you did. Shall we walk?’ He indicates the path ahead and she falls into step beside him easily.

They spend a good half hour talking about inconsequential things and walking slowly, he thinks they’re going around in a circle honestly but it doesn’t really matter. Eventually they reach a glade and she stops suddenly. He turns, surprised, to find her frozen, head tilted towards the sky with weak sunlight bathing her face. She looks so peaceful and so very beautiful that his breath catches in his throat. She moves slowly and opens her eyes to look at him and he coughs, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

‘Would you like to sit?’ he asks, proud of himself for keeping an even tone.

They perch on tree stumps which will most likely leave damp stains on their clothing but neither of them seems to be worried about that. As he sits he remembers the biscuits and fishes them out awkwardly, offering them to her. She laughs and accepts one and they sit in comfortable silence for a while, munching on slightly too sweet shortbread.

 

Soon the clouds come over and he looks up, commenting that the sky looks ominous. He is quietly disappointed that their afternoon together has to end but they can’t stay out in the rain. As they make their way back to the camp, moving quickly, the first drops start to fall and by the time they are within the boundary tents, it is raining properly, the sound of the drops hitting the canvas is deafening and he has to almost shout to make himself heard.

‘Can I walk you back to your tent?’

She smiles and her arm slips through his unexpectedly. ‘Such a gentleman,’ she teases, ‘I’d be delighted.’

They navigate along the boards and he watches as the hems of her skirts grow darker with the water now pouring down. As they reach the entrance of the tent she releases his arm and somehow he can still feel her warmth against his side. Her smile is breathtaking, even with her hair plastered to her head and her headdress sadly drooping. Before he realises, she is much closer to him, leaning on him for one moment before her lips ghost across his cheek and then she is gone, slipping under the canvas to the cries of the other girls, clearly dismayed at how wet she is. He walks back to his tent with a ridiculous smile on his face, not even worried that it will take several days for his jacket to be properly dry after this soaking. Being followed by the scent of wet wool isn’t too bad of a price to pay for such an afternoon.


End file.
